


What's a King to a--

by detri



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's
Genre: Come Marking, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Grinding, Hand Jobs, M/M, Submission, i also apparently have a jumpsuit fetish, jack has daddy issues, or wait maybe that's just me, past jack/someone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 20:50:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19048153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/detri/pseuds/detri
Summary: Jack Atlas would never admit it, but he owes everything to Rex Godwin. And he is in no position to refuse him.





	What's a King to a--

**Author's Note:**

> I gave this fic the beta title "WHAT'S A KING TO A GODWIN" but then I genuinely couldn't think of a better title oops
> 
> Ever since I started 5ds I wanted to write this pairing and this kind of scene in particular!! even though I think that if anything, Godwin would be more of a Yusei guy
> 
> The careful reader of my fics will notice they're all about exactly the same thing

Jack could never stop himself from getting lost once he started looking out in the direction of Satellite. Seeing those grimy smokestacks, that dim and filthy metal jungle he had grown up in, always set his mind to walking through the slums he had so narrowly escaped. On this particular night he had collapsed back onto the couch after a nighttime ride on his private rooftop track. He hadn't bothered to change out of his riding jumpsuit, figured he'd just pull it off and go right to bed after he gathered the will to get back up—but then Satellite had sucked him in and his mind had left him.

He didn't regret it. He couldn't regret it. Since then, the world had opened up to him. He was at the top of it now, as he should be.

Now, he had fame, the adulation of the crowd, support from high places—and more personal things, things he would never admit he was grateful for. His own bed, and soft sheets. All the food he could ask for, with no risk of it running out. Clothes that weren't hand-me-downs. A private bathroom with predictably hot water. Things the people of Neo Domino City were used to, that they would never imagine their King still privately reveled at. He had stability. Consistency. Peace. What he'd had to do to get it wasn't important.

He was accustomed to Godwin entering his quarters, even late at night. This property was technically his, after all. And he knew that Godwin was a careful man who wanted to keep tabs on his investment. Jack wasn't one to disappoint. Godwin had wanted a King, and so he was ready to put forth the image of one, no matter what, no matter when.

When he saw Godwin's reflection behind him in the wide window, he met the eyes of that reflection. There was no point in turning around. Godwin could see him reflected too, could see how he slung his arms over the back of the couch, how he slouched surveying his kingdom, self-assured in his dominance. That was the image Godwin wanted. Acknowledging him any more than that would ruin it.

“Preoccupied, Jack?”

“No. Just looking out over the city.”

“Enjoying the view, then. I see.” Godwin skirted the couch and sat, just within the area of space Jack had been taking up—not quite encroaching, but certainly not out of the way. He still didn't look at him, but only at his reflection.

Jack wondered what he wanted. Usually there was an upcoming match to discuss, a public appearance to plan. It wasn't like him to not have anything to say.

Finally Godwin spoke. “How long has it been? Since you came here.”

“Two years. Almost exactly.”

Godwin nodded, and clasped his hands. His eyes were unreadable as always, clear and grey. “Such a short time. And yet, I feel I've watched you grow up.”

Jack only grunted. It felt like quite a long time to him, actually. But then again, he had no idea how old Godwin was. He could be almost any age and Jack would accept it without questioning.

“Sometimes...it's strange, but I find myself so taken with the man you've become. When I watch you race. When I see how you command the crowd so easily.” Godwin smiled, but Jack still couldn't discern the emotion in his eyes. “Even though I sought you out...I'm amazed how well you fit the role.”

Jack had never had anything like a father figure, and Godwin had only been the barest semblance of one. Theirs was more like a business relationship; Godwin held him at a respectful distance. But this conversation felt like Godwin was trying to bridge that gap. Jack wasn't sure how he felt about it. After all, all of Godwin's praise and all of his pride had always hinged on an “if”, though it was completely unspoken. _If you keep winning. If the crowds still want you._

But maybe he had earned a permanent place?

Jack turned to look at Godwin for the first time, and found that Godwin had turned to look at him too.

“It's alright,” Godwin said. “You can keep looking out the window. It suits you. The King should look down on his people.”

Jack thought that his eyes looked soft.

Godwin sat back on the couch, and looked out the window with him. Jack let himself, tentatively, relax. _He really just wanted to see me._ It was strange, but stranger things had happened to him. The fact that he was even here in Neo Domino foremost among them.

Then he felt a hand on his thigh.

“Of course—even kings have people they pay respects to.”

He had misunderstood. Whatever this was, it was the exact opposite of what he had been hoping. Not less obligation, but more. Jack straightened up, but Godwin slid that hand up his side to his shoulder, pressing him back.

“No, no. Stay as you were. There's nowhere for you to go anyway.” Godwin's hand was rubbing in circles on his shoulder, and he shifted closer on the couch. “You know how generous I've been, Jack.”

“Yes.”

“Everything in this room...the penthouse...the building itself. They were all investments I put into you when all you had was a street dueling streak and your ambition. And I've found that my investment has paid off well...in more ways than I expected.” His gloved hand moved to Jack's face, caught one of his earrings and toyed with it. Jack reflexively jerked his head away.

“What do you want me to do?”

“You know what I want you to do.” Godwin touched his thigh again, more deliberately, with more weight. His voice was lower too, as if he was trying to avoid being overheard. “I want you to pay me back. I want a taste of the fruit I've nurtured.”

Jack's heart made a jump in his chest as if it was trying to escape without him. The rest of him was horrifyingly still. He couldn't bring himself to speak, couldn't move his dry throat to say anything. _Unthinkable._ He couldn't be touched. And Godwin was old, so old, Jack immediately had an age to pin to him and it was _too old, too old to be thinking like this, too old to want it._

Godwin's hand was moving further up and sliding to his inner thigh, massaging it. “I don't want much, I promise. It won't hurt.”

Jack saw, in his reflection, how bewildered and betrayed he looked. He hated that. He tried to look away, but the alternative was to look at Godwin. And he didn't want to see his face right now.

But Godwin moved closer on the couch, took Jack's face and tilted it towards him. “Take your jumpsuit off.” He pushed Jack down onto the couch cushions with implacable, inhuman strength, a hand too unyielding to be made of flesh. Jack felt like his brain was short-circuiting. Everything happening was too surreal. _This isn't real._

As if Godwin had compelled him, as if his hand was moving on its own, Jack felt himself start to tug the zipper on his jumpsuit down. Godwin was pulling him down into a lying position, resting Jack's legs on either side of him, and still rubbing his thighs.

“And then the next layer.” Godwin prompted him. His voice hadn't climbed out of that husky, half-whispered range, like this was a dirty secret. It _was_ a dirty secret.

The short-sleeved compression bodysuit Jack wore underneath was his underwear. If he unzipped this there would be nothing protecting him. He didn't want to.

Godwin laid a hand over his hand where it had frozen. “Don't be afraid, Jack.”

“I'm not afraid—“ Jack spat, but Godwin silenced him with his mouth on his. It was only a kiss by the technical definition.

“Your voice is so loud. Just let me see you, let me touch you. You'll like it. Don't worry, I'll be very considerate.” He unzipped that layer, baring Jack's well-muscled and sweat-dampened body to the penthouse's ambient lighting. Slowly he started to work Jack out of it, deftly prying Jack's hands away as he tried to preserve his modesty. He laid a kiss on Jack's temple and whispered close to his ear. “There's no need to act so shy, Jack. I know what boys in Satellite do to survive on the streets. I know about you and your friends...the dock workers must have loved you.”

Jack's vision went white with rage. “I never…!” None of them had. They had sworn, back when they were all too young to understand what they had been avoiding, to watch each other's backs, to help each other out, to make sure no one had ever been down enough on his luck to even have to think about it…“We _never_. Not at the docks or anywhere.”

Godwin completely ignored him. Instead, he took his glove off, biting it to tug his hand free, and slipped that warm hand inside Jack's clothes, between his legs.

Jack turned his head to the side and was confronted with a reflection of the nightmare scene he was in. From the huge picture window, his mirror image stared back at himself, with eyes that were wide open and paralyzed, as Godwin pawed at him, hunched over his prone form like a vulture. He didn't want to look as Godwin pulled his cock free and started to work it, but he couldn't turn his eyes away.

Godwin was good with his hand. He gently, teasingly rubbed his thumb across the tip of Jack's cock, smearing the precum that was starting to leak out despite Jack's reluctance, and with his other hand he barely squeezed Jack's balls, not enough to hurt but just enough to make his body tense up and his cock get harder and harder. He was so self-assured, so methodical despite the unbearable lust that must have finally driven him to do this. Jack still couldn't come to terms with the idea that Godwin wanted him. He had never thought of this man as a sexual being before—he had never suspected that he was capable of overpowering someone's protests and convincing their body to obey him, to mold a partner and make them pliable to his will, but now he had to confront it. Maybe it was the inescapableness of the situation, the emotional crack Godwin had put in him by mentioning Team Satisfaction, or some stubborn remnant of the hope Jack had held that Godwin cared about him, but he was responding to this touch. More than responding to it, he was melting under it. He was grinding up into Godwin's hand to help Godwin rub his length, he was thrusting into the space between their bodies. With his other hand, Godwin lifted Jack to him, guided him to kiss him. Jack followed through, tossing away the scrap of guilt that rose to his mind—the last person he'd kissed had been a long time ago, before he'd left Satellite, and it didn't mean anything now. They were older, they'd grown apart, and they'd never be able to get that relationship back again.

Especially now.

Godwin's tongue invaded his mouth with as much sureness as anything else he did, and Jack thrilled at how hot it was, how intimate...had he really wanted to be touched this badly? Had he really felt this alone and not known it? When Godwin pulled back, Jack tried to follow, and he heard himself whine.

“To the world outside, you're the King. You're unassailable. You're undefeated, a hero, the symbol of courage the people need. But to me, right now...” Godwin straightened up to look at Jack, flushed and exposed on the couch, cock angry red and begging for attention, leaking precum all over his abs. “You're all mine, Jack. And you're so cute.” His voice was a low purr.

Jack nodded once, hazily. He wasn't 'cute'. He violently hated that the word had been applied to him. But he couldn't talk back now. He just wanted this to be over. He wanted Godwin to finish up with him and leave. He wanted to be finished, himself. If Godwin called him cute or a dock boy prostitute or whatever else he wanted to call him, fine. He'd get angry about it afterward. And he knew he would. But right now he was burning up for a different reason.

From here, he could see the bulge where Godwin's cock was straining against his immaculately pressed pants, and he couldn't help but watch as Godwin slowly, leisurely took it out, as if savoring the fact that he could expose himself to Jack Atlas, the biggest celebrity in Neo Domino City, the pawn he'd built up just for this purpose. Jack waited silently, not sure what would come next—not sure what he wanted to happen next. He felt scrambled up inside just looking at it, nauseous and feverish and aching with a confused desire.

“You like it, Jack?” Godwin watched Jack's face, with a hint of amusement. “It's okay if you do...you can touch it. It's good to be honest about what you want.”

Jack shook his head. Touching it was out of the question, beneath him. But somehow his knees felt weak at the idea of watching Godwin touch himself...it was still so disgusting to him that a man so old had been fantasizing about him all this time, had been longing to touch him and say filthy things to him, but at the same time...deep down he had always known people wanted him. He felt a thrill just knowing that his assumption was confirmed.

He grasped his own cock at the thought. Godwin smiled.

“You want me, don't you?”

Jack let out a long shaky breath as Godwin started to rub their cocks together, using his gloved hand to keep them in place. Even through the fabric, that hand was unnaturally cold, but the arousal between them was so hot Jack felt like he was burning. Godwin was huge and heavy over top of him on the couch and when he started to nip and suck on Jack's neck Jack noticed the clean yet musky scent of his cologne. It smelled—safe. Like the security and the stability of the Tops in a bottle. He started to relax, as much as he could with his cock throbbing and aching in Godwin's hand.

“You really do like this, don't you...” Godwin's voice was so deep, Jack thought it made the air vibrate.

“No...I...” Jack couldn't voice any excuse, not like this. _I'm the King. I'm supposed to be at the top of the world. It's always been that way._

_But you were the one who put me here, so…_

“Jack...will you cum for me? I want you to feel good. You want to cum for me, don't you?”

“N-no!” Jack shook his head and his earrings clinked weakly. “I c-can't...” _I don't cum 'for' anyone,_ he wished he could say. _It should be an honor if I cum._

He wished he could say that, but he'd never actually had sex like that.

“I bet I can change your mind.” His gaze looked steely again, and he prodded two of his ungloved fingers into Jack's mouth, wetting them with the hot, sticky saliva that had been stirred up by their kissing.

Taking those fingers out, he brought them between Jack's legs, and started to rub around the sensitive rim of his asshole.

Jack grimaced and whined. “Stop...”

Godwin kissed him again, a deep kiss to shut him up, and kept grinding against him while toying with his ass, never actually putting a finger inside, just teasing at it. Jack was thankful, not sure how he'd be able to deal with that fresh humiliation. _Please let me keep just one thing._

“Tell me you want to cum, Jack.”

Jack shook his head again, mouth tightly shut.

“Then maybe you want me to put something inside?”

“Fine, fine—!” Jack felt his eyes sting.

Godwin watched him, pale eyes still unreadable.

“I want to cum.”

“You want me to make you cum?”

“Y-yeah.”

Godwin didn't blink. “Will you beg for it?”

The rage that had given way to lust came back in a burning tidal wave. Jack tried to—get up, or fight back, or something—but Godwin had a hand on his chest as if he'd been anticipating it.

_I could never. I'm the King._

_I'm the King. I'm the King._ It was the only thing his mind could focus on, as Godwin's oppressive hand on his chest started to gently stroke him instead, lovingly touching his muscular pecs, rubbing one nipple.

“Go on, Jack. Beg me for it. Let your daddy hear you beg.”

Jack's legs were shaking. Somehow the word had gone straight to his cock, along with the taboo and disgusting idea of using it for the man who had him at his mercy in every way.

“My daddy…?” Jack said, hating how the childish word sounded in his voice, especially when it was clouded by lust like this. It was so disgusting. Godwin was disgusting. He was disgusting.

“That shyness is really adorable,” Godwin said, though his face didn't show it. He started stroking Jack's cock again, using his other hand to knead his balls again, much less gently now. “That's right. Daddy knows how to make you feel good, Jack. It's okay. You can cum anytime you want.”

Jack was twisting under Godwin, burying his burning face in the couch cushions, trying to hide his expression. It was too embarrassing, too much, he was going to die—he felt himself tense up and he bit the cushion to avoid letting out a moan as he came, Godwin milking everything out of him with those sure and careful fingers.

“Good boy...Look at all this. Here, taste it.”

Jack dumbly accepted as Godwin brought his fingertips to Jack's mouth and made him taste his own cum.

“I told you you'd like it, didn't I? Now it's my turn. Don't worry. I can take care of myself.”

Jack couldn't have done anything even if Godwin had wanted him to. His mind was floating away, lost in a haze, and he was only dimly aware of Godwin masturbating over him, his breath catching sometimes, until finally with a deep groan he released himself across Jack's bare torso. Jack flinched.

“Don't get up yet. Just let me look at you.”

Jack looked at Godwin distantly as he stood up, tucking himself back into his pants and collecting his discarded glove.

“I wish I could take a picture of you like this,” Godwin said. “But it wouldn't be any good if anyone else saw it, right, Jack? This is our secret. Just for us.”

He was right. No one else would ever know.

There was no one Jack could tell.

Godwin left as silently as he had entered, and even when he was sure he had gone Jack still stayed on the couch, feeling as if his body were made of lead.

Eventually, when the drying cum on his skin was too much to bear, he rolled off the couch and made his way to the shower, and washed himself and his jumpsuit in water that was as warm as a father's embrace. He didn't want the maid who collected his laundry in the morning to see the stains.

He crawled into bed with his hair still wet. His sheets were so clean. The air conditioning hummed gently, as if to lull him to sleep.

Outside the wide picture window, Satellite stared back at him.

_I don't regret it. I can't regret it._

Jack was too exhausted to think any more than that.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Jack Atlas is extremely moe and dumb as a box of rocks


End file.
